Quotes
Quotes about Love
Love is union with somebody, or something, outside oneself, under the condition of retaining the separateness and integrity of one's own self.
There is hardly any activity, any enterprise, which is started out with such tremendous hopes and expectations, and yet which fails so regularly, as love.
Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists.... When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness in absence.
The love we give away is the only love we keep.
No matter what you've done for yourself or for humanity, if you can't look back on having given love and attention to your own family, what have you really accomplished?
Do you want me to tell you something really subversive? Love is everything it's cracked up to be. That's why people are so cynical about it. . . . It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more.
True love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen.
To a person in love, the value of the individual is intuitively known. Love needs no logic for its mission.
This was love at first sight, love everlasting: a feeling unknown, unhoped for, unexpected- in so far as it could be a matter of conscious awareness; it took entire possession of him, and he understood, with joyous amazement, that this was for life.
We don't love qualities, we love persons; sometimes by reason of their defects as well as of their qualities.
We are not the same persons this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person.
Romantic love is an illusion. Most of us discover this truth at the end of a love affair or else when the sweet emotions of love lead us into marriage and then turn down their flames.
A man reserves his true and deepest love not for the species of woman in whose company he finds himself electrified and enkindled, but for that one in whose company he may feel tenderly drowsy.
There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.
Family love is messy, clinging, and of an annoying and repetitive pattern, like bad wallpaper.
Love is a driver, bitter and fierce if you fight and resist him, Easy-going enough once you acknowledge his power.
We conceal it from ourselves in vain-- we must always love something. In those matters seemingly removed from love, the feeling is secretly to be found, and man cannot possibly live for a moment without it.
Love, free as air at sight of human ties, Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies.
Falling in love consists merely in uncorking the imagination and bottling the common-sense.
Many people when they fall in love look for a little haven of refuge from the world, where they can be sure of being admired when they are not admirable, and praised when they are not praiseworthy.
Life has taught us that love does not consist in gazing at each other but in looking outward together in the same direction.
Love is a spirit of all compact of fire.
Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs, Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes, Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers' tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, A choking gall and a preserving sweet.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
Love sought is good, but given unsought, is better.
